Pink Sky in the Morning
by The Alleycat Ulan
Summary: -DISCONTINUED-Will went alone into Nottingham and Robin had let him, after all one man alone drew less attention than two. Especially if the other man was Allan A Dale. And especially if they were going to an inn that had pretty serving girls and alcohol
1. Prologue

**Postathon 2/14**

Yes, I'm re-writing Pink Sky in the Morning. Why? There was a plot hole that needed fixing and once I figured out how to fix it I realised I needed to do some tweaking to the earlier chapters. So I figured it would just be easier to re-write it. Don't worry though it's basically the same story, just better ;P

Also since the Prologue stays the same, I posted the first chap as well.

Thanks for the support shown towards the orginal story, hope you guys like this just as much and hopefully better.

* * *

_The rising sun heralded the new day and turned the sky a hue of pink. Those who lived in the little village of Loxley were stirring. Will bought his mother her share of their meagre breakfast. His face was solemn as he handed her the plate. She'd been bedridden for days, ill and they had not the precious coin that a physician cost. _

'_Will, open the curtains for me,' It hurt Will to hear his mother's warm, merry voice so soft and weak. He obeyed without hesitation. The pale morning rays filtered in and Jane turned her face towards them, a peaceful smile on her tired face. _

'_Pink sky in the morning, sailor's warning,' she murmured._

'_Huh?' _

'_There's a storm coming... something's going to happen,' Will nodded slowly and reluctantly turned to leave, as much as he wanted to stay with her, hold her hand and just talk, since his father's…accident…the bulk of the work had fallen on his shoulders._

'_Will,' Will stopped with his hand on the door knob and turned back._

'_I love you, you know that don't you? I love you and Luke, and your father of course. Never ever forget that, never,' Tears pricked behind Will's eyes, but he didn't let them fall. _

'_I know,' the door shut softly behind him._

_That evening Jane Scarlett died._

--

The sky was a pink hue as the sun rose on the horizon. Will felt his gaze drawn upwards.

"Pink sky in the morning, sailor's warning,' He murmured to himself. Memories from that morning four years ago sprung up fresh in his mind.

"Never took you for the superstitious type, mate," Allan chuckled.

"Mother said it to me once," Will continued to gaze upwards, "Something's going to happen,"

"Not bein' funny but it shouldn't it be: Pink sky in the morning, _Will Scarlett's_ warning," Allan chuckled.

Will didn't laugh.


	2. Chapter 1

Sherwood Forest was a dangerous place to be wondering. Especially after the sun had set and the moon was beginning to move across the star speckled sky. But the two outlaws, Will Scarlett and Allan a Dale had nothing to fear. They both knew the greenwood as well as the animals that made it their home.

Of course, Allan was in such a drunken stupor that nothing could possibly cause him fear anyway. Even if a giant man-eating bear were to corner him on a cliff and the fiery gates of hell were to open up beneath him, Allan would be smiling stupidly as he faced his death. But, then, maybe that was the best way to go, smiling stupidly without a care in the world.

"W-Will? … Did I … I ev-hic- ever… t-tell you that…I..lo-hic- loooove y-you?" Allan asked, leaning heavily on his much more sober companion.

"No," Was the rather blunt reply.

"Oh," Allan's face fell, but almost immediately lit up again in all that is drunkenness.

"Well…I…d-do…Dun get m-hic- me wrong…I l-love …g-girls too…"

Will sighed; he was not in the mood to humour his intoxicated friend. And there were many valid reasons for this; the informant who was supposed to meet them at the Trip to Jerusalem inn hadn't shown, Allan's drinking had caused a minor brawl in which Will had managed to Allan out in one piece but he himself had sustained a minor yet irritating cut on his forearm, the brawl caused by Allan's drinking had aroused the attention of the guards which when combine with Allan's drunkenness had made it difficult to get out of Nottingham and tomorrow it would be Will who would end up dealing with a hung-over Allan.

In fact the more he thought about the more apparent it became that the source of the night's misadventure answered to the name of Allan. And when he came to that realisation he made a very solid decision that he would never take or go with Allan to the Trip to Jerusalem inn again. Ever.

Finally, after what seemed like many hours hiking through the forest half carrying the drunken form of Allan a Dale the outlaw camp came within sight.

Within moments Will had entered the camp and the rest of the outlaws greeted them with the vigour of people who had been waiting anxiously for much, much longer than they would have liked.

"What took you so long?" Robin laughed as Will unceremoniously dumped Allan on his bunk.

"Mathew didn't turn up," Will answered, setting himself down on a log and accepting the plate of food Much handed to him, "And he," Will motioned to Allan, "Started drinking,"

This news slightly dampened Robin's mood.

"So the Sheriff is still blaming us for that ambush on the North Road?" Much inquired. Will nodded, and then winced. Djaq had almost immediately observed the rough bandaging covering the cut on Will's arm and had already set about tending it.

"This I do not like," Little John said.

"I agree with John, the Sheriff is up to something," Robin declared, "What about this mystery guest, Will?"

This time Will shook his head, "Nothing. Nobody seems to know anything more about him other than he was well armed, rich and from very far away,"

"Well, I'll go and see Marian tomorrow and see if she knows anything," Robin said rising and patting Will on the shoulder, "Good job Will, I want you to go back to Nottingham tomorrow and see if you can find Mathew,"

"I'm not taking Allan," Will said.

"Fair enough," Robin agreed, "Well then let's call it a night then lads!"

And to this everyone agreed. The comfort of a warm bed was alluring in the cold of an English night and so they turned in for the night. Unaware of the approaching storm.

* * *

Dark rain heavy clouds rolled in the next morning just as predicted. The outlaws were returning from their usual rounds of delivering food and money and Robin had returned from his visit to Marian. To everyone's irritation the rain starting to pour down before they had a chance to move everything into the cave, the result being that most of their blankets and spare clothes were soaked through. The mood in the cave was, to say the least, gloomy.

The ice cold water sliding down the cloak made Will shiver and pull it tighter around himself as he exited the Trip to Jerusalem inn. Frustrated by the feeling he'd failed Robin, by gathering no new information about the Sheriff's current mystery guest and unable to locate Matthew, he stepped heavy, his boots causing splashes with each step.

Moving through Nottingham without attracting attention was not that hard really. Most of the guards were sheltering indoors, or to busy harassing peasants to do their job. He passed few poor beggars and discretely dropped a small purse, full of coins from the Sheriff's taxes no less, where they could see and continued unheeded.

Something caught in his peripheral vision and he sidestepped just in time as a heavy club swung past his head. Will staggered a few steps in surprise before regaining his composure. He glanced around and was startled to the beggars advancing towards him. A few milliseconds of confusion, then he realised. And then mentally berated himself for his uncommon display of stupidity.

The guards continued their advance, then attacked as one. Will dodged a sword, swung his axe upwards to block another only to catch a club to his side that sent him sprawling. They _were_ getting better.

Roughly the guards pulled Will to his feet, before he had a chance to get up himself, and turned him to face their captain.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He jeered, inspecting the tag that hung around Will's neck, "one of Robin Hood's men are ye?"

Will said nothing. The captain turned the tag over in his hands, the cord twisted and tightened around Will's neck. Still, he was quiet, his mind whirring with escape plans and tactics all the while not panicking and keeping calm demure.

A scream broke through the air, and the cord loosened around his neck as the captain turned to find the source. A serving girl - one of Will's childhood friends-had come around the corner and was greatly frightened by the large number of guards (or more correctly the sight of her friend being held captive by a large number of guards) Taking advantage of the distraction Will kicked out at the guards holding him, struggled free and ran, reminding himself to thank Abbey next time he saw her.

After few seconds of confusion the guards were soon chasing after him. His side where the club had struck hampered his escape efforts and sharp pain shot through him with each step.

Will turned down alleys, up streets, slipping and sliding, turning over carts and causing general mayhem in his wake, just to put some distance between him and his pursuers, not enough for them to lose sight of him, but enough so that he was relatively safe. It wasn't being done to show off, or irk the Sheriff, like it would be if Robin or Allan was in his place. Will was using his brain. All the guards had to do if they lost him was have men on every possible escape. That would definitely not be good.

Instead if they were still concentrating on chasing after him, then his escape would be slightly easier. _Slightly._

Although Will rarely showed his feelings, it did not mean that he didn't have any. For example, he would not deny that he felt triumph swelling up his chest as the gate of Nottingham came into sight. Nor would he deny the speed with which the feeling was promptly squashed when he saw that a large number of guards had decided to stop a cart directly in front of the gate.

Thinking very quickly, Will glanced around.

Distraction. Distraction. BIG distraction.

There were three horses tied to a rail, yes that'd be good. Oh, and a cage full of squawking, protesting chickens.

The guards had caught up with him. Relying on instinct Will swivelled around and blocked a sword that would have taken off his head, and then deflected in towards the cage of chickens. There was a crack as the cage broke and the flighty birds took off in all directions, while the owners of the birds came to confront the guards.

Will turned towards the horses, the cowl of his cloak falling away, revealing his face.

Pain.

Sudden and merciless.

Time slowed.

He looked down uncomprehendingly to where the sharpened length of steel entered his body. Then his eyes followed the metal to the hilt, then the arm until he was staring into the eyes slits of the helmet. The guard was only young, very young, and his eyes were wide with fear as he watched warm red liquid leak from the wound. He looked…familiar? Will's thoughts were hazy and unclear, the boy could be anyone. And anyway, why did it matter?

The boy jerked the sword free and the pain that erupted from the action was unimaginable. Then the boy turned and ran.

Will, using the last of his rapidly fading strength, brought his axe down on the rail and grabbing the reins of the closest horse swung on and rode out the gates to Sherwood.

* * *

The rain had stopped.

Allan was among the first to seek freedom from the cave. A stuffy, cramped cave and a very bad hangover should never mix. He stopped, as a thought occurred to him and looked over his shoulder towards the cave and opened his mouth- presumably to make some sort of wise crack at Much that would die on his lips as the sound of thundering hooves reached his ears.

He opened his mouth again, this time with an entirely different purpose, but once again words never left his mouth as a horse and rider burst out of the tree directly in front of him.

His first reaction was aggression as he simply assumed that the rider was an enemy.

It was quickly followed by surprise and relief as he realized who the rider was.

"Will!" Allan exclaimed, happy to see his friend. His next expression was confusion as Will reeled in the saddle. Allan reached out to him and saw the blood covering the horse's neck and the front of the saddle.

Please be the horse's blood. Please be the horse's blood. Please be the horse's blood. Please be-

It wasn't the horse's blood, Allan decided grimly, as he caught as he Will toppled from the saddle. A sound- it was the best way Allan could describe half hiss half groan of pain- escaped Will's lips.

"Djaq," Allan called, his voice was hoarse.

"Djaq!"

* * *

Enjoying it so far? Let me know please!

* * *


	3. Chapter 2

And now I present the second chapter for all to hopefully enjoy!

I took me quite a few tries to get the paragraph with Djaq just right, but now it's done I'm relatively happy with it. Not too much else has changed, another new character and that's it really.

Enjoy!

* * *

"HE DID WHAT?!"

"He escaped, but one of my men managed to injure him," Gisbourne stated, his nonchalant demeanour a sharp contrast to the Sheriff's rather obvious rage.

"Gisbourne, tell me, how many men do you have?" Vaysey asked with exaggerated patience, pacing back and forth. Somebody was going to pay for this humiliation.

"Forty-five."

"And how many men were they chasing?"

"One,"

"THEN HOW DID HE MANAGE TO ESCAPE?!"

"Chickens."

* * *

Guilt was heavy in the air that hung in and around one particular cave in Sherwood Forest. The main sources went by the names of Robin Hood and Allan A Dale.

Robin felt guilty because Will had been injured carrying out his orders.

And Allan felt guilty because he hadn't gone with Will.

It was an unwritten law of the gang, that nobody should go anywhere alone.

Especially into Nottingham. But Will had gone alone, and Robin had let him, after all one man alone drew less attention than two. Especially if the other man was Allan A Dale. And especially if they were going to an inn that had pretty serving girls and alcohol.

So Allan felt really guilty, possibly even more so than Robin. And it was a feeling he'd just decided he did not like at all.

What made it even worse was that Djaq had not left the cave once.

Allan felt really, really, guilty.

The young guard was trembling as he faced the Sheriff. Gisbourne stood nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Why did you let the outlaw escape?" Gisbourne asked bluntly watching the boy carefully. The boy gulped.

"The horse…was marked," The boy answered quietly. The Sheriff shot up in his seat.

"Which horse?" He asked glaring accusingly at Gisbourne, whom he was quite certain hadn't told him everything.

"Your horse my Lord," Gisbourne answer dryly.

"WHAT?!"

* * *

Slowly, carefully the needle was drawn. A gentle, yet firm tug pulled the thread tight before the needle's head was once again pressed through flesh. And it repeated again until the wound was sealed. A final tug, a knot was tied and a final snip to cut the thread. Then the needle and thread were stowed away and the wound was wrapped firmly in cotton. And finally the task was complete.

Djaw rocked back on her heels and breathed deeply to calm her racing heart. Slowly she raised her eyes to study his face. Saffiyah bubbled beneath the surface, dangerously close to breaking through. But Djaq fought her back, forcing herself not to look away. She focused on the rise and fall of his chest, finding its steady rhythm somewhat more comforting than the clammy parlour of his skin.

After a time her breathing returned to normal and she thought that Saffiyah was once again firmly restrained. So she allowed her eyes to travel to his face. It lasted for a moment before Safiyah attacked ferociously. Tears pricked behind Djaq's eyes and she squeezed them shut tight.

She was so focussed on her battle that she didn't notice movement nearby. Little John, moving surprisingly quietly and softly for a man of his stature, gently placed a bowl of watery stew beside her. He turned to leave, but something in the uncharacteristic slump of Djaq's shoulders and the way her breathing came in slow and deep and yet seemed to rattle her whole body. Even her hands, clenched tight into fists, shook. John reached down and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Djaq, suddenly realising she was in the presence of another, jumped to her feet and spun around. Little John just smiled, squeezed her shoulder again and turned and left.

Djaq sank to the ground again. Her battle, for now, won.

* * *

"Lord Chen, good evening," The Sheriff greeted the other man in a friendly manner. Gisbourne was at his side, looking on with displeasure.

Lord Chen stood with his arms crossed over his chest, in the doorway to the quarters that the Sheriff had so …kindly… allowed him, his daughter and his men to reside in during their stay. He was a tall, lean man of about fifty, a harden warrior from the sabre that had hung from his belt on his arrival. Necessary for protection, he had explained, as you never know what misfortunes could befall one on the road.

At his elbow appeared his daughter. Tall and slender, beautiful, maybe, to her own people, little more than a snail in Vaysey's eyes. And as coincidence would have it, Ling felt much the same way about him.

"Good evening, Sheriff. I trust there is a reason you came to see me at such a late hour?" Chen replied in a much less than friendly manner. It was obvious that Lord Chen had no respect for the man who now called himself 'Sheriff of Nottingham'.

"Well, yes, now that you mention it there is," The Sheriff said, faking sincerity. Chen raised an eyebrow, a signal for the Sheriff to continue.

"Well, you know those outlaws I've been telling you about? Yes, well, it seems we may have an opportunity to capture them and bring them to justice."

"And?" Chen disliked the sound of the Sheriff's voice as much as he disliked being woken from a comfortable sleep. Therefore he wanted the conversation over and done with as quickly as possible so he could return to bed.

"And I would appreciate your assistance," The Sheriff said.

"My assistance?" Chen did not like where this conversation was headed. Gisbourne frowned. Apparently, nor did he.

"I need to …borrow… some of your men. It seems that if forty five of my men are incapable of apprehending _one_ outlaw let alone a whole gang of them!" The Sheriff's voice rose in anger that was obviously aimed at his second in command. Chen spared the knight a glance. Gisbourne remained completely impassive.

"Then it would seem that forty five of your men are ill trained," Chen replied calmly.

"Yes, it would appear so," The Sheriff struggled to keep his temper bottled, "But _your_men are very well trained on the other hand, and I would appreciate very much if you were to lend them to me,"

"Your appreciation, how extravagant," Chen turned his back on the men, intending to return to his bed, "Even so. I don not _lend_my men to anyone,"

"_My_ appreciation will get you far in London. Prince John holds me in high regard," Vaysey tried to sound persuasive. Gisbourne rolled his eyes. Chen stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Does he really?"

"Would I ever lie to you?"

* * *

It was late in the evening and someone else was wandering through Sherwood. Searching to be more precise. They knew what they were doing, the person moved silently as a ghost, slipping from shadow to shadow in the moonlit night. For what they were searching was anyone's guess.

Maybe a hidden treasure.

Maybe a meal.

Or maybe an old friend.

* * *

Robin lay still, faking slumber, until the sound of a sleeping camp filled the air around him. Silent as a shadow he rose from his bed roll and flitted off into the forest. John watched him go and said nothing.

The cool night air turned each breath Robin took into little puffs of smoke, the only thing that separated him from a shadowy demon. He moved quickly and quietly as the damp leaf litter allowed, covering distance in short spurts of silent speed.

Soon the forest claimed him as he picked up speed and threw all caution to the wind. He was running, nothing else mattered right now.

Nothing at all. Only the sound of the wind as it rushed passed his ears and the leaves as they scattered beneath his feet.

Robin had no idea how far he ran or for how long. Every part of his conscious being was consumed with the need to run, to put as much distance between him and the camp as possible.

As much distance between him and Will as possible.

Robin faltered. His feet slipped beneath him and he fell to the ground and did not rise.

He'd promised himself, that he would take care of everyone. He'd promised Dan he would take care of his son.

And he'd failed.

The knowledge crushed him.


	4. Chapter 3

First post of 2009!

Lalala! Happy new year ppl! Thanks to my reviewers: IDreamOfFantasy, bLaDeoFtHeNeBuLa, American Gypsy, kat priestley, Capt. Cow and Bowandarrow8i8 .

Hope you like it!

* * *

"Hurry back Gisbourne. We wouldn't want the outlaws to miss their lunch!" The Sheriff called across the courtyard.

"Yes my lord," Gisbourne said, squeezing the words out between clenched teeth. If Gisbourne was another man he would have started to mutter under his breath at about this time. But since he was not another man, he kept his thoughts to himself.

"Sheriff, why do you not accompany us?" Chen asked, smiling to himself. Examining the Sheriff, he could tell that the Sheriff had all intention of returning to bed after their departure. Something about the fact he was wearing a thick fur dressing grown and matching slippers gave this away.

"I have important business to attend to!" The Sheriff said dismissively, he then turned and strode back into the castle, "It's called sleep."

* * *

Morning arrived in Sherwood Forest. Just like it always did without fail. A comforting constant, in a world so full of turmoil and uncertainty. The warmth of the sun gently caressed Robin's face and birdsong sounded very close by. Robin stirred.

A steady rhythmic _trump trump trump_ sound added to the symphony of a waking forest. As the sound grew louder Robin finally awoke. And, forgetting where he was, very nearly fell to his death.

The previous night, when Robin had come to his senses, it had been too dark for him to find his way back to the camp. No matter how well he knew the forest, unless he became a wolf or some other forest beast he wouldn't have been able to smell his way back, so he came to the conclusion that it would be best that he spend the remainder of the night perched in the trees like his namesake.

It had not been comfortable, but it kept him safe from the creatures that hunted in the night and any other unseen dangers.

Carefully, this time, Robin stretched out his aching muscle as the steady _trump trump trump _came closer. A horse whinnied and a moment later a contingent of horses and armed men on foot came into sight. It was only when Robin could see who made up the head of column of soldiers he snapped fully awake. For up until that precise moment he had not been quite in the world of the waking and all memory of the events of the previous day had escaped him. But now that he was fully awake reality crashed back down on Robin, reminiscent of a wave crashing on the shore of a beach, except that a wave breaking doesn't nearly knock the shore out of a tree.

Robin reeled silently in the tree, praying that Gisbourne wouldn't be taken by the sudden urge to look skyward. Fortunately the knight wasn't one to act on his urges anyway and so even if he felt the urge to look skyward he wouldn't have and so Robin was able to release the breath he had unknowingly been holding. Once the dwarf army had passed safely out of sight Robin scampered down the tree like a squirrel and quickly set about following the suspicious contingent of men through the forest.

The sheriff's men in the forest could mean only a few things and none of them were good.

* * *

Robin wasn't the only one the _trumping _had disturbed. Ling swore as she crawled out of the bush she had been forced too hide in. Looking around she discovered that, typically, the bush she had chosen to hide in was the only bush with prickles in the vicinity. Somewhat displeased with this discovery Ling swore again for good measure, before gathering her bearings and setting off again.

It wasn't long before she came across the tree Robin had spent the night and after a quick look discovered his tracks and continued to follow them doggedly.

* * *

Leaf litter crunched under the horse's hooves as Sir Guy of Gisbourne and Lord Chen lead their troops towards the outlaw camp. In front of them ran a tracker on foot, his scent hound straining at its lead. They were flanked by twenty of Gisbourne's mounted archers. The rest of the men kept a steady paced along side the four legged beasts.

The plan was rather simple. Once further into the forest, they would send the tracker and several scouts on ahead to locate and survey the camp. They would return and lead the rest of the assault party to the camp, where the archers would block all possible escape routes while the rest of the guards attacked on foot.

Of course, Gisbourne would give Hood a chance to surrender, but he knew the outlaw leader well enough to know that the chance would be mocked and Hood would insist on combat. Not that Gisbourne really minded. It would be much more fun to capture Hood in the midst of battle than to have him merely surrender.

Yes. This was going to be fun.

* * *

None of the outlaws slept well that long night; worry and grief gnawing away at all chances of a peaceful sleep.

Allan had woken up every hour and gone to the cave to check on Will until Djaq had told him, rather harshly, to either stay in the cave or get out and stay out. Though, honestly, Djaq had not been much better. She kept finding herself drifting between sleep and consciousness, jolting awake every time she thought she saw Will so much as twitch.

And now that a new day was dawning, Djaq could feel fatigue bearing down on her sleep deprived and worry stricken body.

She had never realised just how annoying Allan's snoring could be. Now she understood why Much complained about it so much. The Saracen in fact found it so annoying she was tempted to wake Allan up in the noisiest way possible, but she couldn't quite bring herself to be that cruel. Yet. Allan had had as little sleep as she had, so he deserved this little luxury, however short lived it maybe.

"Master?!" Suddenly Djaq found Much's shrill voice irritating. Apparently so did Allan, his head dropping forward so his chin rested on his chest, muffling his snores, before he jolted awake. Allan looked around blearily. Djaq suddenly felt like laughing, the sleepy look on Allan's face was quite hilarious. Then she frowned, putting the blame for her sudden mood swings on her own fatigue.

"Wh'ts 'appen'ng?" Allan muttered, running a hand through his already ruffled hair.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Djaq replied, rising stiffly to her feet. Allan muttered something indecipherable and clumsily rose and followed her to the cave entrance.

"What's the matter Much?" She asked tiredly. The manservant turned to her.

"Robin's not here," He answered.

"He snuck off last night," John said.

"Then why didn't you stop him!?" Much demanded, appalled.

While Allan watched on amused, Djaq turned her back on the argument and taking a loaf of bread from the food stash headed back towards the cave. She trusted that whatever John's reason was it was well justified.

The air inside the cave was chill and Djaq shivered pulling the thick woollen blanket around her again. She could see the others gathered around the fire now and could smell eggs cooking, but she bring herself to leave Will alone for more than a brief period of time. If asked or opposed her reasoning would be that, as a physician, she should check him regularly. But truthfully, she just wanted to reassure herself that he was still breathing, that he was still alive.

A movement at the entrance of the cave broke though her reverie. Glancing up Djaq saw the form of Allan moving towards her.

"Here," He said holding a plate of fried eggs out to her. Djaq accepted the plate with a tired smile. The simple gesture brought to life the realisation that Will had always prepared her plate and brought it to her.

Allan set himself down beside her wordlessly. Breaking off a chunk of bread she offered it to Allan, who wolfed it down with much less vigour than usual. He is truly worried then, Djaq thought.

Chewing absently Djaq allowed her eyes to travel over Will's limp body taking in every little detail, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. Tears returned to her eyes. Beneath the blanket she clenched her fists. She would not cry.

"It's not your fault ya know?" Djaq looked up; Allan was staring determinedly straight ahead.

"If anything happens, just so you know, no one will blame you," Allan risked a glance at Djaq and felt slightly relieved when he saw gratitude on her tired face so he continued, "I mean I should have gone with him. I should have, I dunno, not drunk so much last time that I drew attention and guards. I mean, I don't blame him for not taking me, but I should have at least made more of an effort to control myself. I mean it's not that hard to say no to a drink, I should have just said no,"

Allan continued to ramble and soon Djaq ceased listening, fatigue setting in, her eye lids began to droop.

"I mean, I should have gone with him," Allan stopped and looked at Djaq. Her head had drooped and her worried posture had relaxed.

Allan smiled, thinking of just how different she looked when she was sleeping, peaceful and untroubled. Allan leant over and wrapped the blanket more tightly around Djaq's shoulder's and moved the plate out of harm's way.

Looking back from the mouth of the cave, he thought he saw a single crystalline drop fall.

* * *

The contingent of men moved through the forest quickly, Robin hot on their trail, his interest aroused. Robin paused behind a tree, waiting until the main body of the cohort had moved further down the trail. Suddenly a hand snaked out and cut off his startled cry, as familiar brown eyes met his own.

The young woman pressed her finger to her lips as a precaution and removed her hand.

"What are you doing here?" Robin whispered, not unkindly. Ling flashed Robin a quick smile.

"Trying to find you," She answered. This was hardly the reunion she had hoped for, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Now's not the best time for catching up," Robin remarked, peering cautiously around the tree. The guards had stopped in a clearing and a few of them broke off, melting into the undergrowth.

"I know," Ling persisted, "But it's important," Robin nodded absently and inched forward cautiously and Ling followed.

"Robin," Ling persisted, but to no avail Robin's attention was not on her. The scouts had returned and were talking quickly with Gisbourne. A signal was given and the cohort moved further down the trail, Robin and in turn Ling trailing a safe distance behind. She had to come to the decision that it was there no point in trying to converse with Robin at the present moment and was resigned to wait until Robin was ready to listen.

They drew nearer and nearer to the camp, Robin's mind whirring with activity trying to find a way past the column of well armour men to warn his friends.

The trail the cohort was following cut between Robin, Ling and the outlaw's camp. He could easily have slipped across the trail and taken a shortcut to the camp without the guards noticing. The risk was too great he decided; if he cut across to the other side he would be upwind of the dogs, which had almost certainly been trained to respond in a less than friendly manner to his presence.

And any way there was still possibility that one of the others would spot the legion, before they spotted the camp.

And there was an even smaller possibility that these thugs weren't even looking for the camp.

Again the group stopped and the scouts disappeared into the undergrowth. Returning moments later they reported to Gisbourne. From the malicious smile spreading across Guy's face as the leather clad knight signalled to his followers to spread, Robin guessed that any small hopes he may have harboured were nullified.

* * *

Much frowned angrily into the pot of stew that hung over the campfire. It was near noon and he had, once again, been charged with the duty of cooking lunch. What was he? Some kind of housewife-no correction- _forest_wife?!

Annoyance high on his list of current emotions Much brandished the ladle in his hand and gave the stew a violent stir. Some of the liquid spilled over the edge of the pot and landed in the fire, causing it to hiss and spit.

Much cursed. A very uncharacteristic thing for the manservant to do. But if he'd had his way, he wouldn't be sitting by a campfire cooking for a bunch of unappreciative outlaws; rather he would be out in the forest searching for Robin like the loyal manservant he was.

In fact it was this sense of loyalty that had gotten him into such a bitter state in the first place. He had been preparing to leave on his search when one Allan had happened to ask him what he was doing. Much had replied that he was going to look for Robin and for there an argument had stemmed over the overall need of the search. Allan saying that Robin would return when he was ready, whilst Much argued bravely that Robin could be in danger.

In the end the argument had ended when Little John intervened, telling them both to shut up, that Robin would return when he was ready and that Allan should find something useful to do with himself.

Reminiscing over the fight did nothing to improve Much's mood, with a finally, more careful stir he rose to his feet and called to the others that the meal was ready.

Just as John and Allan approached, Djaq still asleep in the cave, Gisbourne's voice, loud and clear, broke through the crisp morning air like a sword.

* * *

Robin had heard Gisbourne call out and started to run towards the camp in foolish hope that somehow his presence would alter the situation in the outlaw's favour. Ling would have called after him to stop, had she not realised that any noise she made could put them in danger. So, instead, she pursued him, hoping to catch him before he did something stupid.

She caught him as he came over a rise in the forest floor, ready to charge down into the camp already swarming with guards. She grabbed Robin by the back of his shirt and pulled him back on the other side of the ridge before the guards saw him He struggled to rise again but Ling kept him firmly pinned to the ground.

"Robin," She hissed. Something in her voice subdued the burning rage that had flared up inside Robin. He stopped struggling and when Ling was sure he wouldn't do anything more stupid she released him.

He swore softly; cursing whatever had possessed him to leave his weapons behind the previous night.

* * *

Djaq jerked awake. She could hear someone speaking in the camp, and it was not the voice of someone who belonged in the camp either. Silently she rose to her feet and crept to entrance of the cave. Instinct muffled the gasp that rose in her throat as she took in vast number of guards swarming around the camp. From her position Djaq could see Allan, Much and Little John at the centre of a knot of guards and Gisbourne riding down towards them. They were unarmed and Djaq silently begged Allah not to let them do anything stupid.

"Surrender, outlaws," Gisbourne ordered, although Djaq could clearly see that that was not what he really wanted.

Immediately Allan raised his hands, but whether it was out of concern for his own hide or if he was actually using his brain for once Djaq didn't want to know.

After moment John raised his hands and reluctantly Much followed suit. Djaq breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tie them up," Gisbourne said dismissively turning his horse away, then a thought occurred to him and he turned back, "You," He said to a group of five guards, "Destroy the camp,"

Djaq retreated back into the cave; pulled the moth eaten blanket that covered Will over his face and crouched in the shadows next to him, sword in hand and waited.

* * *


	5. Chapter 4

A new atrociously short chapter. It was originally going to be on the end of the previous chap but I couldn't figure out how to write it. So am I going to make up for it by posting a new chap super quick? Probably not. Right now the next chap is a complete blank and will most likely be sort also because of the blankness.

Apologies.

Hope you still like it!

* * *

Once Gisbourne moved out of sight I received a shove from Percival. He was the unassigned leader of this particular group of thugs who had taken it into their head when they met me that I was their own personal servant.

"Check the cave," He ordered me, which loosely translated to 'We're going to loot the place and not share any of it with you.' Mentally shrugging I followed his instruction; my Ma had brought me up to know better than to steal. Almost as soon as I had turned away a fight broke out between Timothy and Aren about who would get the large wooden staff that had been the big man's weapon. I smiled bitterly remembering a time that seemed so long ago, when I had fought with my brother over wood. The memory bought with it another more recent memory which in turn bought with it an unwelcome wave of emotion. I felt the hot tears of regret and frustration welling deep inside trying to break free, but my eyes remained dry.

I think that moment of distraction proved to be the turning point; my guard was down when I entered the cave. Before I even had a chance to cry out, an ice cold blade pressed against my throat and a voice whispered into my ear; "Do not move."

I was surprised. The voice was accented, I recognised it as Saracen, it sounded emotionless even to my ears. I could feel that the body behind me was small and for a moment I considered the possibility of overwhelming my captor. Almost as though they had read my thoughts the blade pressed harder and I could feel the tiny trickle of blood as it ran.

My eyes flickered down to where I could just see the blade and the hand that held it. It held steady, so this was no amateur. "What do you want me to do?" I asked, hoping the question would distract them while I quickly ran my eyes around the cave.

"Nothing." Was the blunt reply. My eyes rested on the rug draped figure in one corner. I gritted my teeth.

"Is he dead?" The words leapt from my mouth, sounding almost child like, even to my own ears. The grip on the blade tightened and pressed slightly harder against my neck.

"What is it to you?" The voice was still cold, but a tiny amount of emotions had crept into it.

"I…I…" I couldn't find the words, my emotions were rebelling again, and to my shame my voice quivered when I said it; "It…It was me."

* * *

Furious with himself Robin kicked at the dirt, continuing his chain of swearing, hoping feverently for some sort of miracle that would spare him a second guilt trip in as many days.

"Robin," Ling scolded in a hushed voice, "What did the dirt ever do to you?"

Robin glared at her, "I need to help them!"

"You can't help them now, Robin and you know it," The sternness in her voice dropped and she continued in a pleading tone, "Please, Robin listen to me."

"No!" Robin exclaimed, "_You_ listen; One of my men is injured and the others captured. And I'm the only one left who can help and you won't let me!"

Robin saw Ling's hand come up and realised too late her intentions. His cheek stinging, Robin sat down hard as Ling's face flushed red. He had only ever seen her get this angry once before, when he and Much had teased her just a little too much.

"You really are stupid aren't you?!" Ling demanded angrily, "If you just shut up and listened to me you would understand!"

Robin stared at her, a hand going to his cheek; he sat in the dirt feeling like a boy again, caught with his hand in the sweets jar.

Pleased that she had gotten through to him, Ling continued in a softer voice, "Robin, something is going on in Nottingham. Chenglei came here a week ahead of us, but the Sheriff is saying her never arrived. We know otherwise."

* * *

My captor shoved me to the ground, the knife glinted as it was raised above my throat, ready to strike. Now that I could see my captor I could seen that he was indeed a Saracen, his dark eyes were flashing with a murderous rage.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

My emotions had been scared back into hiding and my calmness surprised even me, "Just tell me, is he dead?"

The knife plunged down, buried to the almost to the hilt in the dirt centimetres from my throat, his hand still gripping the blade was trembling, "Who are you?" The voice came out as a low hiss and I could tell I would get no answers until I provided one myself.

"Tell me!" He struck me across the face. I could taste the blood at the corner of my mouth and it occurred to me that these moments could be my last on the green earth.

That meant no more times for lies and no more point in avoiding the truth.

And so I told him, "I am Luke Scarlett."

* * *

Yep I threw in a bit of first person pov, thought it might add to the drama lol.

Thanks to my reviewers:

**HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld-** Why thank you for your kind words. It was rather difficult to write Djaq I have to admit, trying to think of how she would react etc. But I was fun at the same time.

**Capt Cow-** Yeah...The cliffie was unintentional. This is the end of the previous chap really. I guess it is a bit of a cliffie too though lol...

**eleroo02- **Thanks for your support! Although I don't think this is what you had in mind when you said "get to it" ...

**PyroChicka770-** Aww thanks for the love! Hey, if you like head on over to my forum the Nottinghamshire Scribe Guild, you'd be more than welcome =)


	6. Chapter 5

Alright new chapter. Also kinda short and uneventful. My bad. But it's better than nothing right? Hope you'll enjoy it all the same!

* * *

The Sacaren tensed and glowered down at me suspiciously, "Luke Scarlett?" He repeated dubiously.

"Yes," If not for the knife lodged uncomfortably close to my throat I would have nodded, "Will's my brother."

This didn't appear to ease the Saracen's suspicion, "How do I know you're not lying?" He demanded.

He had a point there.

I thought for a moment and then it occurred to me, "He's scared of cats."

If it had been another situation, I would have laughed at the memories.

This revelation seemed to strike a chord though. Taking advantage of the Saracen's surprise I struck up suddenly and rolled. As we rolled I managed to grab the knife and pin the Saracen beneath me.

The tables have turned, I thought grimly leering down at the outlaw. I made to brace my hand on the outlaw's chest and put the knife to his throat to see how he like it, but my hand met a soft resistance.

The kind of soft chest resistance that no man had.

The Saracen then took advantage of my surprise, grabbing the knife and rolling us back over to our original positions.

"You're a woman!" I exclaimed. To my shame I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks.

She grinned wolfishly down at me, "That I am." She agreed.

I cringed and didn't answer. I felt like a helpless little boy again and I didn't like it. Just when it seemed I couldn't bare it any longer there was a moan.

The Saracen was off me and to his side before I had time to register.

Still slightly stunned I too rose to my feet.

"Luke…is…that you?"

I froze.

The weakness in that voice. The pain. I had done that.

It was me.

The sudden realisation flooded me, up until now I had been able to suppress it. But that one word, he had to say it didn't he? The roaring emotions within me blocked everything else out. I couldn't hear anymore. The world seemed to spin around me.

I sank to my knees beside him, tears streaming freely down my face. I couldn't remember when they'd started to fall.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, afraid to touch him, to even look at him, "I'm so, so sorry."

I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder. I looked up. The Saracen stood above me; all harsh emotions of the previous moments were replaced now with emotions I knew echoed my own.

"You have to go now," She said surprisingly gently, "They're calling you."

I took a breath and forced myself tor each out and touch Will's limp hand. His eyes flickered briefly, but he didn't stir again.

I accepted the hand the Saracen held out to me and rose to my feet.

"I'm sorry," I whispered staring hard at the ground. I hadn't liked the sympathy in her eyes; it made the guilt burn even more brightly. I liked it better when she was trying to kill me.

She seemed to brush the apology aside and was already busy at work lighting one of the torches that lay near by. "Tell them you set it on fire." She instructed me and I nodded.

I could feel tears welling up again and was glad for the smoke that was already starting to billow from the torch.

I stumbled from the cave and straight into Percival. He grabbed me roughly but the front of my shirt and shook me.

"What took you so long?" He demanded.

"One of them was still in there," I replied looking him defiantly in the eye, "He attacked me and I killed him."

_I'm sorry, mother _I whispered in my mind. She had raised me to be a good man, and I knew all these lies must have her rolling in her grave.

With a hmph Percival dumped me on the ground and began to walk away and the others hastily tucked their takings away and trotted after him.

I risked a glance back at the cave, before following.

Each step I took I could feel part of me being wrenched away.

* * *

Robin twitched impatiently. The guards were still down in the camp and Ling's revelation had little in the way of a calming effect, despite her obvious faith in her plan.

He saw the smaller of the guards enter the cave and he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Numerous other raids on their camps had taught the outlaws that if they were going to use a cave for storage that is should not be made obvious by placing the camp too close to the entrance and other similar precautions had been made.

Up until that moment he'd dared to hope that somehow Djaq and Will at least would not be captured. Now the guard exited and Robin could see smoke begin to pour from opening. Ling placed a firm hand on his arm, holding him back until the guards had moved out of sight.

The together they slid down the embankment. Robin pulled the hem of his shirt over his face and entered the cave. There was a tingling sensation behind him and he turned. Djaq stood behind him, knife glinting ready in her hand.

"Robin!" She cried, quickly sheathing the knife. Her gaze briefly flickered curiously to Ling who had come to stand by Robin's side.

"This is Ling," Robin said by means of explanation, "What happened? I saw the guard come in and... You're not hurt are you…?" He trailed off watching her for any signs of injury.

Djaq frowned slightly at this, "I'm okay," she replied, "Robin, the guard, it was Luke."

"Luke?" Robin repeated, "You mean Luke Scarlett?" Djaq nodded confirmation.

Robin frowned, in the words of Little John; this he did not like.

* * *

Congratulations you made it. Thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter:

**HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld**- Djaq gave me trouble again! That last conversation between her and Robin took me forever to get right! Ah well...thanks for the review =)

**IDreamOfFantasy**- Note how even though the computers started working again, I kept working on my stories anyway. lol. Thanks buddy! =P

**eleroo02**- New chapter; no questions answered. 'spose that means you want me to "hurry up" and write the next one? haha, doubt that's gonna happen. lol. Thanks for all your support! =D


	7. Chapter 6

Look everyone; a shiny new chapter!

A shiny new chapter that is rushed and probably riddled with typos, I apologise in advance and take full responsibility because I am too lazy to proof-read like I know I should. I'll fix up any mistakes i come across later, I promise. In all honesty, I'm just posting this because I want to feel like I did something constructive today.

Good news is though that this chapter is longer than the recent ones have been, so is that enough for me to earn forgiveness?

Well, I hope so, enjoy!

* * *

The Sheriff of Nottingham was happy. He'd finally done it. Hood was finally captured. Oh, the Sheriff was really, really, really, happy. So happy, in fact he was sing about it.

"I'm so very happy!"

There was a knock at the door and he immediately reassumed a cool, calm demeanour. Gisbourne stepped into the room.

"I brought the prisoners, my lord," he said simply.

"Good, good. What are you waiting for bring them in!" Vaysey replied impatiently, standing up.

"But my lord, there's a small matter…" Gisbourne objected.

"Not now Gisbourne," the Sheriff scolded, "I've got some outlaws to play with, now bring them in!"

"As you wish," Gisbourne sighed resignedly, stepping aside so that the guards could lead the prisoners in.

The Sheriff rubbed his hands together, "One, two, three," he counted and then stopped. "Gisbourne," he said with exaggerated patience.

"Yes, my lord?" Gisbourne replied dryly.

"Why are there only three outlaws?"

* * *

It was a strange feeling he decided, almost as though he was floating in water only he wasn't. Maybe it was more like he was floating beneath the surface of the water; everything above was a blur of shapes and sounds. When he looked below him there was nothing but a looming dark abyss, its long tendrils winding around holding him back from the beckoning light from above. He fought toward the light, but every time it seemed he would make it to the surface the darkness pulled him back.

Voices broke through the water. Familiar voices.

He reached towards the surface with renewed strength, "Luke…is…that you?"

The simple gesture had sapped all his strength and darkness closed in around him once again.

* * *

"So you mean to tell me, that I sent you, the best twenty guards and twenty of Chen's warriors and you _still_ only managed to capture half of them?"

"They were the only ones at Hood's camp,"

Allan's eyes flicked between his captors as they talked seeking an opening for himself to enter the conversation. He had always been told he had a silver tongue. He'd also always been told he'd amount to nothing if he didn't use that talent of his for good. Allan figured now would be as good a time as any to put his talent to good use.

"What? You think we're Hood's men?"

Gisbourne and Vaysey turned to look at the red haired outlaw.

"We know your Hood's men," The Sheriff told him.

"We left ages ago. Didn't exactly see eye to eye about where our proceeds were going." Allan replied his mind working quickly.

Gisbourne moved forward so he stood towering over Allan and Allan found himself wondering just what drove the man to wear that much leather. Grabbing a handful of hair Gisbourne forced Allan's head back, exposing his neck.

"If you're not one of Hood's men then why do you still have this?" He asked, pulling the outlaw tag out from under Allan's shirt.

"It works wonders on good hearted travellers and the like; they see it and just hand stuff over," Allan answered, he risked a glance at Much and Little John, hoping that they wouldn't give the game away. John's face remained as impassive as always and Much's face seemed to have been frozen into an expression of permanent shock. Poor fellow seemed to still be hoping that all the events of the past few days were just a dream.

"I don't believe you," Gisbourne said, retching Allan's head back further. A knife appeared in his hand and pressed it against the outlaw's throat.

"Ah, ah, now Gisbourne, place nice," the Sheriff scolded, "Even if they aren't Hood's men as he says, it still works the same way. Spread it around the villages that it's Hood's men we've captured and Hood will have to save them whether he likes it or not or face losing his standing among the people. And then the moment he shows his face we capture him," Vaysey couldn't resist one little dig at his second in command and so he added, almost as an after thought; "Provided your men can handle that of course."

Gisbourne roughly released Allan, "Hood won't escape this time, My Lord, let me assure you."

"I'm not going to hold my breath," The Sheriff replied waving a hand.

Gisbourne crossed his arms and said nothing more.

Allan looked down and allowed himself a small smile. He wasn't sure exactly what he had hoped to achieve with his little tale, but the simple fact that it had bought them publicity and some time seemed to be a fairly good result. Things finally seemed to be working in his favour.

"Oh don't be such a cry baby Gisbourne," the Sheriff said, "This doesn't mean we can't have our fun with them."

Or maybe not.

"C'mon Gisbourne to the dungeons!" The Sheriff exclaimed clapping his hand together and jumping to his feet.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't need to come your great Sheriff-ness, I'm sure you have much more important things to do," Allan said suddenly, earning himself a rough blow from Gisbourne and sharp look from Much.

"Oh, I think not. This'll be the most fun I've had in days and I'm not going to miss one part of it!"

The outlaws were pulled to their feet and led out into the hall and towards the dungeons. Allan caught the indignant look Much sent him and gave a shrug in reply as if to say 'it was worth a shot'.

Suddenly the group turned left, away from the dungeons.

The Sheriff saw Allan's look of surprise and smiled sadistically, "Oh don't you worry. We have had special new dungeons made of for the likes of you. No escaping this time."

Much gave him another 'look' and Allan had to fight had with his growing urge to pommel the manservant. The guards and official party continued to lead the outlaws through the castle until even Little John, with his woodsmen's sense of direction was thoroughly lost. Finally they came to a halt in front of a rather unextraordinary looking wall. Gisbourne moved closer to it and the guards closed in around them, obscuring the outlaw's view of the knight's movements.

The clicking and whirring of machinery confirmed Allan's suspicions that the wall was anything but unextraordinary, as slowly a section of the wall moved forward to reveal a doorway sized opening where there had previously been two feet thick rock. Even Allan, whose architectural knowledge did not extend beyond wall plus hole in wall equals doorway, was able to admire the skilled work put into its construction.

The group stepped forward into the gapping tunnel behind the wall and were greeted by a blast of cool, moist air. Whirring and clicking once again filled the air and gears turned and the wall moved back into place behind them. Torches flickered into life into the guards' hands as they raised them high above their heads and followed the Sheriff and Gisbourne as they led the way through the narrow tunnel.

The air grew increasingly cold as they went deeper, Allan could only assume underground. It was obvious that the tunnel was old, but well kept. There was no way such a construction could have been built recently without escaping the outlaw's or Marian's notice.

Finally it seemed they reached heir destination as they passed through a doorway into a chamber. It was similar in size to the regular dungeons and nothing about it appeared special, it was the usual dank, dark and generally unpleasant kind of place you would expect for a dungeon. Allan suspected it had only been built for hiding away special prisoners. The guards shoved them through the doorway and towards a cell.

"China-boy we brought you friends!" the Sheriff called into the darkness as the guards unlocked the cell and shoved Much and John inside, Allan made to follow but the Sheriff stopped him, "Oh no, not you. You can come and play with us since you were feeling so talkative before."

Allan felt his heart sinking, so much for his silver tongue.

* * *

Thanks (and cake) to my reiewers: HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld, Lizhi Anne and Eleroo02 !


	8. Chapter 7

Alakazam! (Did I spell it right?)

I had fun writing this chapter. Can't really remember what part about it was fun, but it was fun either way (I think I may be going a little crazy...er than usual)

That said, I hope everyone has fun reading it!

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. The sheriff has captured your brother?" Ling nodded and Robin leant back against the wall of the cave, puzzling over this newest development.

"What does he want?" Djaq asked, coming over to sit with them.

"Well, that's the thing," Ling replied, "He's planning to pin the kidnapping on you, Robin, and your gang,"

"Why would he do something like that?" Djaq asked again.

"I think it's because he knows that the relationship between Locksley and my people is very strong," Ling shrugged, looking to Robin.

"And he wants to break that good will," he finished.

Ling nodded, "That's what we believe."

A mischievous smile lit Robin's face. Djaq and Ling exchanged glances; they both knew Robin well enough to know that smile meant trouble.

* * *

A rider clattered through the gates of Nottingham and did not slow until they were approaching the castle courtyard. Once there Marian pulled her horse to a halt and dismounted in a swift movement. A stableboy moved forward to take the reins.

"Do you know where Sir Guy might be?" Marian asked him politely, turning her right hand palm up so he could see the coin that rested there with the reins.

The teenager nodded, "He'd be with the prisoners, My Lady."

"Thank you," Marian replied, handing the boy the horse's reins and the coin.

She entered the castle without challenge and was soon making her way towards the dungeons. She knew the way well and was soon there. When he saw her approaching the jailer rose to his feet.

"What business brings you here, My Lady?" he was polite enough but Marian couldn't help but dislike the man who made a living by inflicting pain upon others.

"I was told Sir Guy would be here with the prisoners, I need to speak with him it is a matter of upmost urgency," Marian replied, smiling sweetly. The jailer smiled in return although it was somewhat less sweet and more like a grimace than a smile anyway.

"He is with the prisoners but they aren't here, My Lady," he answered.

"Could you tell me where they are then?" Marian asked, her patience wearing thin.

"I'm sorry, My Lady, but I can't. It might be best if you wait for him to finish with the prisoners to speak with him, although I can't tell you how long you might be waiting,"

"I see," Marian replied, biting her tongue to keep the terseness out of her voice, "thank you and good day." She left without another word.

Marian began moving quickly down the corridor, heading towards the Sheriff's study. It was quite plausible that the prisoners had been taken there first so that Vaysey could interrogate them or, more likely, gloat.

Rounding a corner she collided with someone tall and leather clad.

"Sir Guy," Marian gasped when she'd recovered from her initial shock, "I've been looking for you,"

"Marian," Guy greeted stiffly, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if the talk is true," Marian said, adopting her most innocent face, "Have you really captured Hood and his men?"

"It is none of your concern, Marian," Guy replied coldly. It occurred to Marian that maybe this was Guy's way of saying he didn't want to talk about it. She let a touch of hurt creep onto her face, and this time when she spoke she looked down, not meeting his eyes, and let her voice soften "It's just I'd feel a lot safer knowing that they were locked away and not stalking about in the forest…"

"There is no need to worry, Marian," Guy said after a pause, "We have apprehended most of the outlaws and it is only a matter of time before we have the others,"

Marian had to suppress a triumphant smile, "Oh thank you Sir Guy, I will sleep so much easier at night now knowing I am safe," she said instead.

"I will get some of the guards will accompany you home just to be sure," Guy continued.

"Oh no, Sir Guy, I will be perfectly safe I assure you," Marian said hurriedly. Guy would not be persuaded otherwise.

"There are still some outlaws at large, Marian, we cannot risk them capturing you to use as a hostage,"

Marian could see she wasn't going to win this time.

"Thank you for your concern, Sir Guy," Guy looked adequately pleased and signalled to one of the guards who had been accompanying him. He drew the guard aside and they spoke quickly in hushed tones.

After a moment they turned back to Marian.

"Come My Lady,' the guards said drawing her towards the courtyard, "Best make haste while it's still light."

* * *

There was no two ways about it.

He hurt.

Everywhere.

When Allan came to he didn't open his eyes straight away, not because he didn't want too, but because it hurt too much to even bother trying. After the initial pain had faded away, he forced his eyes open. The cell hadn't really changed much since he'd been gone, it was a little dimmer maybe, but that could just be an affect of the pounding that was coming from somewhere inside his head.

A blurry figure moved in the dimness and water skin was pressed to his dry lips. Allan drank greedily, water dribbling down his chin. When he had enough he pushed the water skin away and found that his arms felt a lot heavier than he remembered. The pounding had died down a little though and squinting he could see enough to make out the blurred shapes of Little John, Much and…

"Who are you?" Allan demanded, but his voice came out hoarse and croaky. He broke into a series of hacking coughs, and the water skin was once again pressed to his lips. This time he drank more slowly, allowing the cool liquid to run soothingly down his throat.

"Who are you?" He asked carefully when he finished. The man rocked back onto his heels.

"Chenglei."

* * *

I slipped through the undergrowth silently, stopping every now and then to check my headings but I didn't stop long. If I went too slowly there was every possibility that the group of guards Gisbourne planned to send back to the camp would over take me. Or even catch me. Neither was a particularly good prospect. If they made it to the camp before I did, there was a chance that the Saracen and Will might be captured or killed. If they caught me, they'd probably mistake me from an outlaw myself and I would suffer the same fate as the others. I'd had to leave my armour and horse behind, so that I could pass as a poor farmer and leave Nottingham inconspicuously. All I had now was the sword I'd stashed away at the edge of the forest and two short daggers.

The sun was setting just I reached the edge of the campsite, the journey took a lot longer than I remember, but maybe that was because the previous journey had been on horse back. I stopped briefly, listening hard. Was it just me, or were there voices coming from the camp? I crept a little closer, and peered through the trees.

A dagger pressed lightly against my neck for the second time that day.

"Didn't Dan teach you better than to sneak about in the shadows, Luke?"

* * *

Thanks to my fantastic reviewers (you can have more cake if you want =P ) Lizhi Anne, HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld, and infernalnightstepper.


	9. Chapter 8

Heya cookies!

New chap, kinda short, & kinda rushed. I apologise in advance ^-^'

please do your best to enjoy it!

* * *

Marian rode quickly, trying to hide her displeasure as the guards fanned out on either side of her. They reached the grounds of Knighton just as the sun was beginning to set. To Marian's relief they only rode with her to the edge of the forest, assuming that the short ride from the edge of the forest to the courtyard of her home would be safe enough.

She waited until they had disappeared from sight before she wheeled her horse around back towards the forest. She angled away from the path the guards had taken; instead opting for a short cut she knew would take her straight to the outlaws' camp much quicker than the path the guards would take. Once she had ridden a short way into the undergrowth she stopped and dismounted. Hurriedly she pulled her dress over her head to reveal the outfit of the Nightwatchman she had been wearing beneath. Mounting up again, she stuff the dress into her saddle bag and drew out the mask, pulling it over her face.

Her horse gave a snort and she kicked him into a canter. It was dark, but her horse knew the forest as well as she did and she trusted him with her life. The forest flew past, and Marian pressed herself low over the horse's neck to avoid any overhanging branches.

At this rate she would make it to the camp before the guards with plenty of time to spare. They would be riding slowly, not used to night time frolics in the forest. But all the same, the sooner she got there, the better.

* * *

I bit back a smile at the sound of the familiar voice, "He did," I acknowledged as the dagger was removed, "But I never really was all that good at listening."

Robin gave a laugh and ruffled my hair. I followed him the rest of the way back to the camp, where the Saracen and another woman waited. They looked up as we approached and the Saracen offered me a small smile. My stomach clenched; Will was not with them. I recognised the other woman as the daughter of the Chinese nobleman who was staying in Nottingham and couldn't help but wonder what she was doing there.

Robin sat with them around the small fire they had started and motioned for me to join them. I obliged. When I had made myself comfortable Robin turned serious.

"What are you doing here Luke?" he asked, fixing me with a grim look.

I suppose that he meant here in Nottingham, working for the Sheriff, but I couldn't bring myself to tell that to anyone yet with the memories still so fresh in my mind. So I pretended that I thought he meant here in Sherwood right now.

"I've come to warn you. You have to get away from here," I told them, "Gisbourne has sent a group of guards back here to search for you. He knows he hasn't captured you all."

Robin stood up, "We'd better get going then," but he looked at me and I knew I hadn't avoided the subject, only delayed it.

The women stood too, the Chinese woman began to throw dirt on the fire and the Saracen moved to speak to Robin. I assisted the Chinese woman, but listened carefully to other's conversation.

"I don't know if it'll be good to move him right now," the Saracen was saying.

Robin nodded and ran a hand through his already tousled, "I know, but we don't have a choice. The four of us can't hold this place and protect him. Just do your best, Djaq."

I realised then that I hadn't even asked her what her name was.

"Could we take him to Matilda?" I asked suddenly causing them both to stop and look at me. I wasn't sure exactly how far Matilda's house was from there, but I knew it would be the safest place for him. I meant it in no way as an insult to Djaq, whom I gathered was the one currently caring for him.

Robin and Djaq exchanged glances.

"It's a long way to go but it might be the best option," Robin admitted after a moment's thought.

Djaq nodded in agreement.

* * *

Amongst other things, Much did not like dungeons. And as far as dungeons were concerned, he liked this one least of all. It had all the classic trademarks of a dungeon. It was cold, damp, and dimly lit. The flagstone floor was hard and uneven, adding to his discomfort.

If pressed for a positive aspect of his imprisonment Much would say it was the reuniting of him and his old friend, Chenglei. Of course the fact that their present situation seemed to promise both pain and ultimately death it made the reunion somewhat bitter sweet.

Much gave irritated sigh and lent back against the cold, hard, damp dungeon wall. Chenglei looked at him and gave him a smile, white teeth flashing in the dim light.

"Take heart, my friend," he said cheerfully, "We have not seen each other for many years. This should be a time of celebration."

Much glared at him, suddenly remembering just how annoying Chenglei's cheerfulness could be.

Allan gave a bark of laughter adding to Much's annoyance, "Don't worry about him, mate. He's just a stick in the mud," he said clapping Chenglei on the shoulder, who laughed in response.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm such a stick in the mud, but I can't help thinking that death is a very real possibility right now," Much snapped, earning him more laughter.

"Death is always a very real possibility when you're cooking," Allan teased.

Even John gave a chuckle, "Today is a good day to die," he put in.

Much said nothing, suddenly ultimate death didn't seem all that bad.

* * *

In truth, Djaq wasn't quite sure how they were going to go about moving Will. If John was there he quite simply would have carried the young man with ease. Allan would have gone off and mysteriously acquired a horse. If it were not Will who had been injured he would have made a stretcher. They could have a made a stretcher without Will quite easily had there not been a time limit.

She was just beginning to think she would have to wake Will when the sound of hoof beats reached her ears. Instantly her drew her sword, Ling and Luke doing like wise and Robin fitting an arrow to his bow.

Moments later a familiar horse and rider plunged into the camp. Marian gracefully swung down from the saddle and moved quickly across the camp towards.

'Robin, you need to leave the camp, Gisbourne's sent guards-" she began quickly but Robin broke her off.

"Yes we know," he said then paused, looking past Marian to her horse.

Djaq looked at him and he smiled, "Marian, can we borrow your horse?"


	10. Chapter 9

This has to be my quickest update ever!

I wrote it in the space of two hours yesterday and it's a decent length (in my opinion anyway =P ).

Well, I must say this story is drawing close to its end, with maybe a few more chapters to go and then it's all done. I'm getting excited because it'll be the first multi-chap I've ever finished XD

Enjoy!

* * *

Dusk was setting over the forest and Matilda and her daughter were preparing for what they believed was going to be a quiet evening. Matilda was bent over the pot that hung above the fire containing the watery stew that would form their meagre meal. Meanwhile Rosa sat at the table, deft fingers at work mending a torn blanket that would definitely be needed with winter quickly approaching.

The window shutters rattled in the wind and Rosa set her sewing aside and rose to secure them as best she could, knowing that if the wind got too strong the shutters with their weakened hinges would blow open anyway. She gave a soft sigh, a hand going to rest on the slight swell of her stomach, if only her husband was here; then they wouldn't have to worry about the house falling down around them as they slept. He would have had every creaking door and loose shutter mended by now. But with him gone, she and her mother had to live off whatever money they could make from people who were as bad, if not worse, off than they were. Rosa could only pray that he would come back so her baby could have a father.

Rosa frowned slightly as she reached the shutter; the howling of the wind was not the only noise she could here. There was something else out there.

"Mother," she called softly, peering through the shutters into the rapidly growing shadows of forest. Matilda rose from her place by the fire to join her daughter by the window.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Can you hear something?" Rosa whispered. She had no reason to whisper, the house was in a clearing and the fire made it a glowing beacon for bandits and thieves, if they were indeed what she could hear and the whole thing wasn't just a figment of her imagination.

Matilda didn't answer straight away; instead she stared out into the night, as though she could see much more clearly than her young daughter. Her brow was knit with concentration, "It sounds like a horse?" she wondered aloud.

Rosa made to reply, but stopped short as indeed a horse came into sight, racing towards the house at break neck speed. Both women moved away from the window, Matilda snatching up a knife and moving to the house's only door, motioning for Rosa to move closer to the fire. Rosa obeyed, taking the poker that hung on the wall and gently resting its tip in the glowing flames.

Usually Rosa was a pacifist, but she was not so foolish as to believe that in times like these she could truly get away with being one. She knew that the most important thing a woman could do was learn to defend herself.

They heard the horse stopped a few metres from the house and then a voice called out, "Matilda!"

The old woman relaxed slightly at the familiar voice but did not put down the knife as she opened the door and stepped outside. A moment later she motioned for Rosa to join her.

Rosa barely suppressed a gasp at the sight. Robin sat astride the horse, struggling to hold the younger man in front of him in place as the horse pranced nervously. As Robin shifted in the saddle Rosa could see why, the young man in front of him, she now recognised as Will Scarlett, was pale, held in the saddle by ropes, the bandages wound tight around his middle, just visible where the folds of the blanket had fallen away, were beginning to adopt a red hue. And the smell of blood was making the horse more nervous by the minute.

Matilda was already by the horse, trying to keep Will in the saddle as best she could while Robin dismounted. Rosa stepped forward to steady the horse taking its reins in her hands and Robin and her mother now eased Will off its back. Once he was free of the saddle, Robin lifted him and carried him into the house, Matilda following close behind, leaving Rosa to tether the horse.

Speaking softly to calm the poor animal, Rosa tied it securely; making sure it was within reach of fresh water, thinking to herself that Will must be very light for Robin to be able to carry him so easily. And if that were true and the wound was as bad as it appeared…Rosa felt her gut twist. She rechecked the tether with a final tug and hurried inside. She did not loosen the girth though; she suspected that Robin would not be staying long.

Robin had set Will down on the bed and Matilda was already at work, pulling away the blanket that had been wrapped around him. Her experienced hands found his pulse, and then began to remove the bandages, calling instructions to Rosa as she worked.

Robin watched on grimly, saying nothing. Matilda looked up at him, wiping her hands on a clean cloth while she waited for the water to boil, the stew that had hung over the fire just minutes ago now all but forgotten.

"Where are the rest of your outlaws?" she asked, watching carefully for his reaction.

"All of them have been captured except for me, him," he motioned at Will, "and Djaq," Robin answered.

Matilda frowned, "I hope you haven't bought any trouble this way," she warned.

Robin shook his head, "Don't worry, I took one of the hidden paths. The guards won't find it, and they'd never guess that I'm here. They think Will is dead."

The water was boiling and Matilda turned back to her work, "Well let's just hope they don't think right."

* * *

At the outlaw's camp the women had been busy, Luke having gone back to Nottingham shortly after Marian's arrival so he could get there before the gates shut for the night. Together the women had worked tirelessly to erase all signs that anyone had been there and made sure that all tracks leading to and from the camp were no longer visible. Now they crouched high in one of the trees overlooking the camp, waiting for the guards to show themselves.

They were armed and ready to fight but that was not why they had remained at the camp. They needed to learn everything they could before they could go ahead with any plan to rescue the others.

Of course Robin had already formulated a plan, but anything extra they could garner just by eavesdropping on the guards could prove to be very useful.

The guards made no secret of their approach crashing through the undergrowth with all the subtlety of a rabid bear, swearing and cursing all the way. The three women exchanged smirks, hiding all traces of inhabitancy weren't the only thing they had been doing. They had gone out of their way to make sure that the guards would have an unpleasant time. Booby trapping the path with small pit falls and wayward branches that were natural enough in appearance to avoid suspicion.

Finally the guards broke through the scrub into the small clearing around the cave. Marian gave an inward sigh, these guards obviously weren't the best ones for the job, with all the noise they had made in their approach they would have scared off anyone still hanging around the camp, before even having a chance to catch them. And now they burst into the clearing all higgledy-piggledy, making no attempts to first scout the area, or observe the deserted camp.

As they drew further into the camp Marian could hear them talking.

"Don't you think this was a bad idea, Percival?" one of the guards asked. The way he moved, shifting his weight from one foot to the other betrayed his nervousness.

The one called Percival turned to the first man, "Hey, I'm only following Gisbourne's orders," he shrugged, "he said to go to the outlaw's camp and check that none of them had come back. And here we are at the outlaw's camp and none of them have come back. Job done."

The other man was not so easily persuaded, "But don't you think we should have crept up on them, you know, ambushed them? What if they heard us, and are in the forest this very minute just waiting to stick us with arrows?"

"Don't be stupid," Percival said dismissively, "Next you'll be telling me that ghosts haunt the dungeons."

"But-" the nervous man made to speak but Percival cut him off.

"Enough talk; let's just get this done so we can head back." The nervous man gave up and went about his business, but the nervous manner in which he held himself never left.

Marian allowed herself a small smile, brushing a hand over her bow. Maybe Percival should listen to the nervous man; at least he had some respect and a justifiable fear of the outlaws. She was tempted to 'stick' Percival with an arrow just to prove the other man right. But she held back, there was no sense in betraying their presence. As skilled as the women were, and taking into account they would have had the element of surprise, attacking the guards would still be a foolish move. The guards outnumbered them by a vast amount, and a foolish act now could spell disaster for the entire gang.

After a few more minutes the guards seemed satisfied that the camp was truly deserted and they rallied to depart. As the last of their crashing faded off into the distance they clambered down from the trees and wordlessly set out along a seldom used trail that would take them to Matilda's house.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Thanks to Ace (Djaq-in-a-box) for her lovely review!_


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